


Befuddled

by merentha13



Category: The Professionals
Genre: M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-09-27
Updated: 2013-09-27
Packaged: 2017-12-27 19:36:35
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 920
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/982794
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/merentha13/pseuds/merentha13
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>A bit of hurt/comfort</p>
            </blockquote>





	Befuddled

_Charred brickwork and blackened windows. The thick, acrid scent of scorched wood, pervasive and pungent. Doyle entered the oppressively silent house and walked warily through the dark, desolate rooms, skirting fallen beams and scattered debris. A noise behind him had him spinning round, gun drawn. A lone mouse raced through the ash on the floor leaving a small cloud of grey dust in its wake. He sucked in a deep breath of the foul air and choked on the bitter taste it left in his mouth and throat. He coughed and cringed at the harsh echo of the sound. Had to be quiet, didn’t he? Couldn’t let anyone know he was here. Bodie’s life might depend on that._

_He painstakingly searched through the fire damaged rooms for a clue. He knew Bodie was here; felt it for a certainty. How had they gotten separated? He couldn’t remember how he came to be alone in this place._

_His last clear memory was waking to deep blue, lust filled eyes, a promising caress down his chest and across his belly and -- the R/T! Bloody Cowley and a call out. An MP’s son had been kidnapped. They were to report immediately. Mutual groans of displeasure and disappointment had filled the bedroom as they hastily dressed and raced off -- to where? That he couldn’t remember. But it didn’t matter. He had to find Bodie. The rest could sort itself out later._

_He studied the floor, looking for some sign or hint of the direction Bodie had taken - and found a faint trail of blood mixed with dusty footprints. A chill of foreboding snaked its way down his spine. Blood. Bodie’s blood. He followed it to a staircase. Up or down? “Where are you, Bodie?” he whispered fiercely._

“Doyle!” A voice, sounding muffled and far away, called his name. 

_Down then. The trail had become more blood than dust. He stood at the top of the stairs and directed his torch down into the gloom._

“C’mon, Doyle!” Bodie’s voice again, a bit closer and sounding angry. 

_Well, Bodie had a right to be angry, didn’t he? Where was his partner when Bodie’d needed him? He took a step down and froze when his torch illuminated Bodie lying in a pool of blood. More blood than any one body could hold. “No! Bodie!” Something wasn’t right. It couldn’t be Bodie at the bottom of the stairs. He’d lost Bodie, hadn’t he? He lurched forward and felt the step he was on give way beneath his feet. He tumbled down the stairs and hit the floor hard. The wooden staircase dropped down on top of him, pinning him beneath its ruins. His shoulder hurt and blood ran freely from his forehead. The torch went out and darkness swallowed him._

“Doyle. C’mon, sunshine. Time to wake up.”

_Someone was talking to him. He regained consciousness slowly; still trapped. He struggled to free himself from the confining debris. “Bodie!” He blindly pushed against the hands holding him down. Hands? “Bodie!” he cried out again, confused._

_A voice penetrated his disoriented thoughts._

“…try the patience of a saint, you would, Doyle.”

He opened his eyes. “Bodie?”

The hands on his shoulders relaxed their grip.

“Back with us now, eh?”

He looked up into a face lined with worry and eyes radiating anger. “Bodie.” The name was whispered on a shaky breath. He felt himself losing consciousness again. A sharp slap to his cheek brought him back.

“Damn you, Doyle. Stay with me.” Bodie’s hand connected with his cheek again, this time the touch was light, almost a caress.

“’m here. Don’t hit me again.”

Bodie smiled at the belligerence. “That’s my lad.”

He tried to shift himself again. Bodie clamped a hand on his chest. “Stay still. You fell. Your shoulder is out. Not sure what else you’ve done to yourself. There’s an ambulance on the way.”

He remembered. “The kid?”

“Is fine. We heard you fall, raced in to see what had happened and found the both of you.” Bodie rubbed his hand on the back of his neck and sighed with exasperation. He pinned his partner in a narrow-eyed gaze. “Why did you hare off on your own? Why didn’t you wait for me?”

“I heard the gunshots. Then I heard the kid crying. He was in the basement. He was scared, Bodie. I started down the stairs to get him and then – and then – I don’t remember.”

“But you do remember you have a partner. A partner whose job it is to watch your back.” Bodie’s voice grew harsh, his eyes flashed. “And how am I supposed to do that, Ray, if you go off on your own.”

“Bodie-”

“No. You listen to me. Do you know what I thought when I heard – ah, the hell with it.” Bodie stood up and waved his hands, dismissing his words and the feelings they revealed. “I’ll go check on the medics.”

“Bodie. C’mere.” He reached out a hand.

Bodie squatted down in front of him. He raised an eyebrow and offered Bodie a small grin. The anger slowly faded from Bodie’s gaze and his lips twitched. Bodie poked him lightly in the chest. “Don’t you ever-”

“Can’t promise that.”

“No, I don’t suppose you can.” Bodie shook his head in resignation.

“I’m sorry, Bodie.” His voice broke and he turned his face aside.

“I know, Ray.” Bodie gently gathered him into a loose embrace, very careful of his injuries, and buried his face in dusty curls. “I know.”

**Author's Note:**

> Written for Tea & Swiss Roll Weekly Obbo 208 Prompts - saint, lust, picture prompt


End file.
